Self-Preservation
by JEZZHYE
Summary: Connor faces off a deranged, elite deviant who proposes him an ultimatum which will result him in either dying or staying alive under the cost of the deranged deviant's life. What will Connor, a deviant who dislikes having the fate of others in his hands, do? Rated T for mentions of blood.


**JAN 9TH**, 2040

PM **02:49**:09

The day became colder as the fresh snowflakes floated from the sky above and landed on surfaces of all kinds. That included Connor's beanie and his coat, the same coat and beanie he wore when he infiltrated Jericho, as he pulled back the safety hilt on his gun before he drew it to the floor. The suspect he had been investigating had been accused of murder of multiple deviants, theft of biocomponents and attempted murder of a police officer, which was the reason for Connor working alone on the case. Neither had he called for backup.

Connor had craved to kill the deranged deviant in the same cold manner as the deviant had tried to kill Hank from the rooftop of a higher building as they were investigating the crime scene. Hank had almost been killed by the bullet tearing through his abdomen if it hasn't been for Connor grabbing his arm to get him out of range. Although Hank's age still made the movement sluggish, and Connor wasn't one to be harsh to the people he is close to. Unfortunately for his desire, he had to follow the law and negotiate the suspect first before pulling any selfish, personal options to approach. That is unless Connor is forced to defend himself.

The abandoned villa he stood in front of began to decay and destabilize from the ongoing neglect it has been exposed to, not to mention the weather that took its toll on the unfinished villa. One supportive pillar and a floor had already collapsed which made Connor hesitate. Running a scan over the ruins confirms the dangerous instability of the floors and the remaining pillars. Connor wonders if the suspect is worth putting his own life on the line as the building would collapse entirely sooner or later, and take the suspect's life with it if he continued to reside there.

A sudden gunshot tore Connor back to reality as he took a step backward. He had no difficulty in locating the source of the sound as he immediately pointed his gun towards the deviant on the second floor, ready to pull the trigger as his finger hovered above it.

„I won't miss the next shot, so consider putting up a challenge before I destroy your intracranial processors." Connor could see the sinister, deranged smirk on his scarred face. Performing a scan while also zooming closer, Connor got a clear view of his face and sent the data, including the suspect's picture, cybernetically to his terminal to be reviewed later on.

**SQ900, #313 242 000-02**

Name: Johnathan

Height/Weight: 5'10'' / 168.8 lbs (1,77m / 76,6kg)

Date of Activation: N/A

Aliases: N/A

Status: ALIVE

Stress Levels: 19%

Thirium Levels: 79%

Core Temperature: 96,2°F (35,7°C)

The deranged deviant was surprisingly an SQ900, a refined military soldier model. He sported a muscular, intimidating and tall appearance with his brown hair trimmed on both sides while the stripe of hair around his scalp grew longer and hung lazily to the right side. His left eye was vivid green in color, while the right eye held the color of amber brown. The blue, deep scars along his face cut through his right eye hole that led the deranged deviant to replace the ocular unit. He wore a black, thick coat to protect his biocomponents from the dropping temperatures throughout the winter with gray denim jeans and a pair of black hiking boots. Around his chest slung a leather strap packed with ammunition for a P.L. 544-7 and for a sniper rifle which hung on his back. The gun was trained on Connor.

„A challenge?"

„Yes, a challenge. If you put up a fight to arrest me, I won't shoot you on the spot. If you won't and call for a backup squad, I'll shoot you the way I should've shot your partner back then." The deranged deviant smirked as he lifted his gun and leaned his wrist against his shoulder. „I can get more details from a scan than you can. You may have removed your L.E.D. but that does not mean that no one will be able to tell what you're doing."

„Not as if that was ever a challenge. And you're not worth the people's time it would take to get here." Connor said as he slowly stepped towards the entrance while he still kept his gaze locked on the deviant.

„Well, I'm not the one standing in plain sight in front of a building that is housing a suspect. I have the chance to get a clean shot through your intracranial processors without you even noticing it before it would be too late."

„I was—nevermind. It is unusual for a suspect to show up the way you did." He explained as he blushed a pale blue in embarrassment before stepping into the building entirely. He also had difficulty processing the information that he let the suspect get an easy aim on him, and took that as a lesson for the future to always be ready to get out of plain sight.

Johnathan, on the other hand, enjoyed the fact that he took Connor by surprise and stepped back from the edge, turning his back to the edge. Waiting for Connor, his smirk never faded.

Connor, as expected, slowly trotted up the staircase with his gun trained in hand and kept it aimed at Johnathan's thirium pump when he arrived. „You seem pretty confident in yourself for showing up as careless as this."

„Because I know you don't know my reasons for killing those deviants and your curiosity wouldn't let you pull the trigger that easily." Johnathan stated as his smirk faded. „But I don't blame you, I destroyed their intracranial processors on the spot, giving you no possibility to probe their memory. Although, that's why I'm going to make an offer first."

„An offer?"

The deviant holstered the gun and held out his hand, receeding the skin on said limb. „See it for yourself. However, before you blurt it out, I know that my reason for killing them cannot atone for the crimes I've done."

Connor never took his eyes off of Johnathan's face and continued to speak in an indifferent tone. „I do not care about your reason as much as I care about my partner's welfare. I apologize, but it's a no,", heightening his aim on Johnathan's forehead, he got closer. „Now, get on your knees and put your hands behind your head."

„As I said, I will put a bullet to your forehead quicker than you can process. Put up a fight, or don't, because I ain't going to prison alive. Either kill or be killed, the choice is yours to make."

„First off, if I would put up a fight, you would quickly put a bullet to my forehead as you said, leaving me no chance of winning at all. And secondly, why are you so desperate to either run away from the law or die succumbing to it?"

„I said," Johnathan sheathed his gun with ease and held the butt of the gun against Connor's forehead. „make a choice." With his voice suddenly as cold as a frozen river and all life diminishing from his eyes, he waited for Connor's response.

Connor, on the other hand, suddenly became conflicted as his stress levels rose, and he knew Johnathan would take note of that if he kept his tabs on him constantly. He quickly realized that he had to make a choice dependent on his survival, or his downfall. If he would take aim at Johnathan's thirium pump to gain a minute to download Johnathan's memory, his chance of survival would sink to 22% as Johnathan would realize his intention and pull the trigger before Connor could. But if he kept his aim on Johnathan's forehead, his chance of survival would rise to 99%, although he would leave without having Johnathan's memories that led him to kill the deviants.

Not to mention, Hank would be devastated to find out that his adoptive son had been shot by the very same deviant who tried to kill him. Hank has been through enough and certainly wouldn't be able to handle another loss.

„Made your—?" Johnathan was about to ask Connor but he wasn't able to finish his question as Connor pulled the trigger. Connor could see how the bullet tore through Johnathan's forehead in slow motion, destroying his intracranial processors, his memory, his consciousness, and his systems. There was a huge splash of thirium erupting from the wound that splashed over Connor, on the concrete behind Johnathan and a few drops on the concrete around them, but Connor couldn't care less.

With a mask to hide his true feelings, Connor watched the body drop on the ground at normal speed with a distant, indifferent glare. The android, the very true deviant that threatened to take Hank's life and his, had been terminated. Connor couldn't describe the feeling he was experiencing at the moment, but it was something he hadn't contemplated.

Instead of feeling regret and guilt he felt relieved like he's done the right thing. One side of him knew that Hank would agree, Hank always has when it involved justified self-preservation, but the other side was uncertain. Uncertain because he hasn't found out why Johnathan murdered the deviants in the first place. It felt right, but it felt wrong at the same time.

Looking at the corpse with the same mask, Connor called for dispatch and the C.S.I. to clean up the bloody mess and took his leave. Exiting the abandoned building, Connor turned around and looked at the ruin one last time with a lingering feeling of loath. „You died the same way your victims died... poetic and ironic at the same time."

Walking past the overgrown yard and through the stone gate of the huge property, Connor opened the front door of Hank's Oldsmobile and sat down. He turned up the heat to the maximum before he took off his coat and beanie, throwing it back to the backseats. Turning the rearview to himself, he took a tissue and wiped off the Thirium stains from his face and hands before turning the rearview back in place and put the tissue aside to be disposed of later.

Without one last gaze towards the abandoned villa, Connor took his leave to report to the precinct.

* * *

PM **07:47**:07

Exiting the precinct after filling out his report and some additional paperwork, Connor drove home as the sun set with a beautiful amber that illuminated the snowy streets of Detroit. The clouds had disappeared, leaving only a few stray ones behind. The sky transitioned from an ocean blue to an amber orange.

Arriving at home, Connor parked the car neatly before pulling the key from the ignition and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut. Opening the rear door, he grabbed his bloody coat and beanie before slamming the door shut again and locked the car as he headed for the door.

Entering the house, Connor shut the door behind himself politely and walked towards the kitchen where Hank was eating on the kitchen table. „Evening, Hank. I see you've served yourself."

„Hey, son. I had to eat something, no offense. You can cook dinner tomorrow." Hank reassured him as he continued eating and took a sip of water from the glass put beside him. „You look like shit though, what happened?"

„It's... complicated, to say the least. I had no other choice but to kill the suspect as he left me with an ultimatum." Connor explained as he sat down beside Hank, his bloodied beanie and coat resting on his lap. „He didn't want to be arrested alive and either wanted to be killed or kill me to escape from the grasps of law."

„Son of a... and why did he refuse to be arrested alive?"

„I.. don't know. He offered me his arm to probe, but I was reckless and too distracted to care about fighting him off if he tried anything during the interface. I also destroyed his intracranial processors to ensure my survival since he was an elite prototype, but in turn for that I couldn't access his memory."

„Reckless, yes, but it was smart to refuse the probe. You protected yourself. You put your wellbeing above the case and those memories, I'm proud of you." With that, Hank reached out and patted the deviant's shoulder in a comforting manner which earned him a sweet smile from Connor. „And what did he do to make you, a patient and kind-hearted deviant, kill him?"

As quick as the sweet smile came, it disappeared again. „He held his gun against my forehead while proposing an ultimatum and... he attempted to kill you. As much as I know that personal judgment is unprofessional, I couldn't care less."

„Aw, man, Connor... come here, boy." Hank said empathically as he stood up and hugged the deviant as Connor stood up as well, putting his coat and beanie on the chair for the time being. „It's okay. No cop was ever able to suppress every personal judgment for at least once. No one's perfect, no matter the color of their blood."

Unsure of what to say, whether the hug comforted more than the words stung, Connor stayed silent. Ever so attempting to be flawless, Connor had difficulty to accept the fact that everything had flaws.

„But the most important thing is," Hank continued as he broke the hug but kept his arms on Connor's biceps. „that you decided what's best for you, you put yourself first. You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to finally put yourself first, and now that it's time... I don't know, I'm just damn proud of you, son."

In return, Connor gave Hank one of his biggest smiles and felt the uncertainity vanish. Being overwhelmed by happiness, Connor embraced Hank in a tight hug the second time this day and didn't let go. „Thanks, dad."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE  
**I certainly hope Connor and Hank do not seem too OC but I felt like that would be an appropriate conversation between the two. I might as well make an alternate version of this as I have been favoring Connor over Johnathan and I feel like the fight would end completely different if I haven't been favoring Connor for the sake of a happy ending. Other than that, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot.


End file.
